


You Might Say: Love

by benmitchells



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this is just dumb and soft idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25436944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benmitchells/pseuds/benmitchells
Summary: Callum just hums again, barely listening – instead he’s staring at Ben intently, his eyes focused on his face. There’s a snarky remark on the tip of Ben’s tongue, something along the lines ofyou like what you see?, when Callum says, “You know you’re the most handsome man in this room, Ben. Do you know that? You’re literally the most handsome man in this whole room.”Ben can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up his throat, equal parts surprise and embarrassment. Except it’s not embarrassment; Ben isn’t embarrassed, not really, but it makes him feel something – Callum always makes him feel something. Shy, maybe. Like Callum is looking at him like he’s something worth looking at.Callum always looks at him like he’s something worth looking at, even when Ben feels like he’s not worth anything at all.ORCallum is very drunk and very in love.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 11
Kudos: 94





	You Might Say: Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vincerets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vincerets/gifts).



> this is for m'love vikki, bc it's her birthday and she wouldn't let me get her a real present so i had to compromise :/ so happy birthday vikki i hope you enjoy this even tho it's silly and short i love u lots <3
> 
> also DISCLAIMER: i started writing this months ago, before the carters decided to sell the vic and ben went deaf!! i decided to leave it as it is (bc otherwise i'd basically have to rewrite the entire thing and i've been struggling to even write a paragraph recently so lmao) but i don't want anyone thinking i'm erasing or ignoring ben's deafness!!!! as a disabled person myself i would never EVER do that!!! so i just wanted to clarify that !!!
> 
> ok all that said i hope you all (especially vikki) enjoy !!!

“Is there anything more important

than hunger and happiness?” 

– _Writing Poems,_ Mary Oliver

The Vic is alive with chatter and music, the bar unusually packed even for a Friday night because of the party going on – a party that Callum had had to coax Ben into going to, first telling him that they _had_ to go because the Carters were practically family, and then, when Ben remained petulant, casually telling him that he had been planning to wear those jeans that Ben loved (it had been, unsurprisingly, the promise of seeing Callum’s thighs in his favourite tight blue jeans all night that had won him over). There are ‘happy birthday’ signs hung in one long line above the bar, balloons and streamers hung around doors and picture frames, the sad remains of the buffet of sausage rolls and finger sandwiches that is now nothing but scraps and used paper plates – Linda had even brought out the karaoke machine that now, so late in the evening, is sat abandoned in the far corner of the pub. All in all, it was a very Queen Victoria birthday party – and also one that Shirley claims she hated, didn’t want, and resented Mick and Linda throwing for her. 

But despite that, and the fit she had almost had when she’d come downstairs and straight into a pub full of locals who shouted ‘happy birthday!’ at her as soon as she walked into the room, Ben had seen her smile more in the past couple of hours than he had in the past couple of years – even with the teasing and the bright pink crown and sash that Tina had insisted she wear all night – and it was nice to see for a change.

And, just like Callum had promised, Ben had enjoyed himself. The Vic was familiar and warm around him, the drinks and conversations were flowing, and Kathy was babysitting Lexi for the night so Lola and Jay could come out too. He had Callum standing proudly at his side all night, looking even more gorgeous than usual and smiling so much that anyone would think it was _his_ birthday party and not Shirley’s. That alone had made Ben glad he came.

But this moment right now makes him even more glad: Callum, loose-limbed and flushed, a few wisps of hair falling into his face as he rocks with laughter. Lola slaps his chest, shouting something about taking it seriously even though she can barely keep her own laughter down. Ben doesn’t really know how they’d ended up in this position; somehow Lola had got it into her head that she wanted to dance – _properly_ dance (“Like in what’s it called- um, God, not Grease… Dirty Dancing!”) – right then and there in the middle of the Vic, to some kind of 70s playlist that Tina had put on. Jay had conveniently disappeared to the toilets at that point, and Ben had politely told her that he’d rather get shot in The Vic again before he’d be caught dancing in it. However Callum, who had initially told her no at first too, was just drunk enough to be talked into it, and the next thing Ben knew Lola had stolen his boyfriend, they had pushed some chairs and tables out of the way and the two of them were dancing, right there in the middle of the pub – although Ben doesn’t know if you can really call it ‘dancing’, because that would imply that either of them have rhythm.

There’s barely enough room for the two of them to shuffle around, let alone do any of the more complicated (and probably dangerous, given how drunk they both are) moves that Lola keeps trying to initiate, but she’s determined. Callum periodically tells her that he’s had enough and tries to go back to the bar, but she stops him every time. He doesn’t put up much of a fight.

It doesn’t take long for them to start drawing people’s attention, taken in by their antics – Karen even calls out ‘lift her over your head, come on Callum!’ which makes Lola light up like a Christmas tree, but before Ben can even open his mouth to tell them _no_ , Mick is already calling out to them from behind the bar, telling them he can’t afford to have a lawsuit on his hands. Lola pulls a face at him, but Callum – with a mischievous grin on his face than Ben knows well – takes Lola’s hand in his and attempts to spin her instead. The spin is unsuccessful, and the two of them just end up with their arms tangled before dissolving into laughter, Callum’s head thrown back, Lola’s hands on his chest as she tries to steady herself.

Ben thinks that maybe he should stop them before one of them gets hurt – Callum’s clumsy at the best of times, Lola’s wearing a dangerously high pair of heels, and somehow both of them seem to be getting more and more drunk and unsteady by the minute. Ben can practically _see_ one of them – or both of them – ending up on their arse. 

But he can’t bring himself to do it. The two of them look like they’re having the time of their lives’, their laughter carrying even above the chatter and the music. Instead, Ben stays standing at the bar and just watches them – the way they turn around clumsily, clinging on to each other.

He can’t help but to think about how far Callum has come when he looks at him like this – can’t help but think about all the years he spent hiding parts of himself, never feeling like he belonged anywhere, never being _happy_. But now, he’s left all that behind and here he is. Here he is – his laughter carelessly loud and his smile never leaving his face. He looks comfortable, here. He looks happy. 

“You know what your problem is?” The voice close behind him makes Ben jump, and he turns around to see Shirley leaning over the bar next to him. She’s smirking, but there’s something unusually affectionate in the way she’s looking at him. “That.”

She gestures to Ben’s face, and he rears back slightly. “You calling me ugly?” 

“You ain’t got no poker face.” She tells him, her smirk deepening. “You never have, especially when you were a kid. You could always tell exactly what was going on in that little head of yours because it was written all over your face. Still is,” she says as her gaze shifts to somewhere behind Ben, “that’s why you’re such a shit liar.”

Ben turns slightly so he can look at her properly, frowning. “Right. So is there a reason you’re telling me this, or did you just wanna come over here and insult me?”

She looks back at Ben, then shrugs. “Just thought it was about time someone told you.” And then her smirk deepens. “I could see you mooning over Halfway from the other side of the pub.”

At the mention of Callum, Ben’s eyes instinctively seek him out – he’s still with Lola, their joined hands held up and out as they sway and talk quietly, calmer now.

“See? All over your face.” Shirley teases. Ben turns back to her. “I bet you couldn’t hide that stupid grin even if you wanted to.”

“Why would I want to?” He asks. Shirley just squints at him, almost as if she’s trying to figure him out. “I’m happy, Shirley,” Ben tells her, picking up his beer, “you should try it.”

There’s nothing but dregs left in his glass, but Ben downs it anyway as he waits for her comeback. He doesn’t get one though, instead getting an exasperated “I thought gays could dance.”

Ben lets out a surprised laugh, his gaze once again returning to Callum. He’s quiet for a moment as he watches him try to twirl Lola under his arm. “That gay can’t.”

Shirley nods at Ben. “This gay can’t either – I remember them performances you and Louise used to put on in the living room. You were awful.”

“Uh, you must be going senile then ‘cause I used to _kill_ those dances.”

It’s then that Jay reappears at the bar, interrupting whatever Shirley was going to say. “They’re still going?” He asks, though there’s an affection there that Ben knows well.

“I can’t believe they’re both still on their feet.” Shirley says, straightening up. “I’d have put money on Halfway dropping her by now.” 

Jay pulls a face at her but she just walks away, leaving the two of them to stand there and watch as Lola wraps her arms around Callum’s waist and they sway together – they’re the only ones still watching, everyone else already having lost interest.

But then the song playing ends and another, more upbeat one starts and Lola’s eyes widen in glee. Ben hears her say an excited ‘I love this song!’ and starts looking around the pub as if she doesn’t understand why people aren’t as excited as she is. 

You could pinpoint the moment she spots Jay, her attention immediately switching from Callum and the song playing to her boyfriend standing at the bar. Ben feels him tense up as Lola points a single finger at him and then beckons him over with it, but he’s quickly distracted when he notices Callum lumbering towards him.

“You look like Bambi walking on ice.” Ben calls to him, to which Callum just smiles benignly as he continues approaching. “How much have you had?”

Instead of answering, Callum presses himself against Ben, his arms coming around Ben’s shoulders. The weight of him forces the edge of the bar uncomfortably into the base of Ben’s back, but he loops his arms around Callum’s waist regardless – partly because he likes having Callum close, and partly because it ensures that he stays upright – and laughs into his shoulder.

“Not that much.” Callum insists, though his speech is starting to slur; Ben realizes he should probably take him home soon. “Patrick bought me a rum. Thought it’d be rude not to drink it.”

“Ah.”

That would explain how he seemed to get so drunk without Ben even noticing – liquor always tends to go straight to Callum’s head and he had come straight from work without stopping to eat anything first. 

Callum straightens up a little then, pulling away just enough to be able to look at Ben properly but no further. His eyes are a little glassy, but they’re surprisingly focused as they search over Ben’s face. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Ben says back, smiling up at him. “You having a good time?”

Callum hums his affirmation, slowly starting to sway them to the music, staying slow despite the energy of the song. It’s almost as if he’s not even listening to it, instead swaying them to something else, something only he can hear. “Think I’m a bit drunk though.”

“You think?” Ben asks, incredulous but affectionate. Callum just grins down at him. “I told you you should have eaten before we came.”

Callum just hums again, barely listening – instead he’s staring at Ben intently, his eyes focused on his face. There’s a snarky remark on the tip of Ben’s tongue, something along the lines of _you like what you see?,_ when Callum says, “You know you’re the most handsome man in this room, Ben. Do you know that? You’re literally the most handsome man in this whole room.”

Ben can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up his throat, equal parts surprise and embarrassment. Except it’s not embarrassment; Ben isn’t embarrassed, not really, but it makes him feel something – Callum always makes him feel something. Shy, maybe. Like Callum is looking at him like he’s something worth looking at. 

Callum always looks at him like he’s something worth looking at, even when Ben feels like he’s not worth anything at all. 

“I should get you drunk more often.” Ben tries to deflect, wanting Callum to stop looking at him the way he is – it feels too intimate, too vulnerable for such a public setting.

“No, I’m- listen, I’m being serious right now. You’re so handsome, Ben; like really, properly handsome, you know that?” Callum rambles, his hands coming to their familiar place either side of Ben’s head, not allowing him to turn away like he wants to. “I don’t think you know that. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Ben feels another bubble of that shy laughter rise within him, feels his cheeks start to heat up beneath Callum’s palms. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or Callum’s words or the way he’s looking at him – or maybe it’s a combination of all of it – but under all the attention Ben is starting to feel almost giddy. “You tell me all the time.” Ben tells him, taking a hold of Callum’s wrists. “And even if you didn’t, you certainly show me often enough.”

“But I don’t think you get it though, because you are proper fit- stop laughing at me!” Callum cries indignantly, though he does nothing to hide the smile on his own face. “Stop, stop because I’m being serious right now, Ben, ‘cause you really are, you’re the fittest bloke in this pub and I’m so-”

“Alright,” Ben protests – he’s not sure how much of this he can take, pretty sure if he smiles any harder he’ll pull something, “alright, you think I’m fit, you’ve made your point.”

But Callum doesn’t seem to agree, already shaking his head before Ben’s even finished. “No ‘thinking’, you _are_ fit – you’re literally, _literally_ the fittest bloke in this whole pub, Ben-”

“I always suspected you were only with me for my body.”

“-and you know what that makes me?” 

“The second fittest bloke in this whole pub?”

“That makes me the luckiest man in this whole pub. I’m the luckiest man in this pub ‘cause you’re mine.”

As soon as those words leave Callum’s mouth, all the giddiness Ben’s feeling shifts into something else. Something more serious. Something that leaves him feeling as though he’s had the wind knocked out of him.

“You’re mine, Ben Mitchell.” Callum repeats, his smile widening slightly. “You’re all mine. I’m so lucky,” Callum continues, rambling now but still overwhelmingly earnest, “so lucky to have you, and Lexi, and just- all of it. I think I’m the luckiest man in east London- no, no the whole _world_.” His grin somehow widens even more. “Yeah, fuck the pub – I’m the luckiest man in the whole _world_. Because _you_ , Ben Mitchell- are you listening? You need to listen to me, because _you_ are so- so beautiful and funny and strong and amazing and- and I don’t think you know how amazing you actually are. Or how much I love you. Because I love you, Ben. I do. And you wanna know the best part?” Ben couldn’t speak even if Callum had given him the chance to. “You’re mine. You’re _mine_.”

Despite the fact that Callum’s right in front of him and he can _see_ the words coming out of his mouth, there’s a part of Ben that almost can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. That Callum – gentle, kind-hearted Callum who is still so _good_ despite everything – could look at Ben and see someone worth seeing; someone worthy of love and kindness and gentleness. That he could know Ben like he does; could know every rotten and ugly part of him and still, _still_ love him. Still feel like he’s lucky to have Ben and that Ben is his. 

Ben thinks that Callum is probably the only person who would ever think they were lucky to have him. The only person in the whole world who, even after everything, could look at Ben and still think _I’m lucky to have you_.

“All yours.” Ben assures him, somehow finding his voice. He feels himself holding onto Callum a little bit tighter, pressing his fingers into the flesh of his back.

Callum lets out a satisfied noise, scratches his nails lightly against Ben's scalp in response. He’s still looking all over Ben’s face, as if he’s trying to take it all in. “How did I get to be so lucky, ay?”

 _I’m the one who should be asking you that_ Ben thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t say it because Callum presses in closer and the bar digs into his back and he remembers where they are – the Vic, Shirley’s birthday party, _public_. The spell has been broken and now Ben is suddenly very aware of all the people around them. Between the music and the noise of a pub, it’s unlikely that anyone would overhear their conversation – it wouldn’t really bother Ben if they did, but he’s all too aware that if this conversation keeps going the way it’s going, then he’s going to end up doing something stupid, like bursting into tears – and there’s an awful lot of people around to witness that. To witness what Callum has the power to do to him.

So Ben loosens his hold on Callum slightly, but knots his fingers into his shirt, not letting him go anywhere, and does what he does best: cracks a joke. “You must’ve been a saint in your past life.” Callum grins. 

“I’m a saint in this one.” He tells Ben, not missing a beat, except then he leans in, and kisses Ben in a way no saint could possibly kiss – in a way that’s filthy, that has Ben chasing the taste of rum in Callum’s mouth with his tongue. He hears someone start catcalling, but it’s faint, like they’re far away, and Callum doesn’t acknowledge it so Ben doesn’t either. He just lets Callum kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until he’s pulling back and looking down at him, surprising Ben with how soft his gaze is. One of his thumbs strokes lightly across Ben’s cheek and he just _looks_ at him. Looks at him and keeps looking, like he’s taking him in. Like he’s really, properly seeing him. And it almost feels like Callum can see straight through him – all the way down to the marrow in his bones, to the softest parts of him that no one is ever supposed to see. 

Ben swears he can feel his heart slamming against his ribs – swears everyone would hear it too if they were quiet for just a second – but he can’t do anything about it. All he can do is stand there and allow himself to be seen, and wish, somewhere in the back of his mind, that they were alone.

Then, almost like he can read Ben’s mind, Callum smiles at him, soft and a little lopsided and says, “Let’s go home.”

It takes a moment for Ben’s brain to catch up, but when it does he lets go of Callum’s shirt, instead taking one of his hands and starts to lead him out of the pub. They don’t say goodbye to anyone, but they don’t really need to – the catcalls and teasing have picked back up, like they know exactly where they’re going, what they’re going to do. _You have no idea_ , Ben thinks, but he smiles anyway, and leads them through the doors and out into the night.

Once they’re out on the street Ben starts to lead Callum towards his flat, a sudden determination to just be somewhere _alone_ with his boyfriend taking over him, but they barely get 10 steps before Callum stops walking, their joined hands forcing Ben to stop too. When he turns to look at him, he’s surprised to see how serious Callum’s face is.

Ben frowns. “What’s the matter?”

“I love you,” is what Callum says – still serious, as though there’s nothing more important in the world right then than to tell Ben he loves him. To make sure he knows. He says it again: “I love you, Ben.”

“You’re a soppy git when you’re drunk, you know that?” Ben laughs, but he takes a step back towards him, his hand still in Callum’s, the other reaching out to grip at his jacket. “I love you too.” He tells him quietly, once they’re stood closer together. “Always.”

Even in the near-dark it’s impossible to miss the way Callum’s face lights up at that. “Always,” he echoes, both his dimples appearing, “I quite like the sound of that.”

“Always.” Ben repeats, looking Callum right in the eye and assuring him in the only way he knows how: _I love you always. I’m yours always. I want this always._ “Now are you gonna let me take you home or what?” 

Callum makes a sound in the back of his throat as they start to walk again. “I like the sound of that an’ all. Home.” Ben just shakes his head to himself, glad he’s walking ahead so that Callum can’t see his smile, otherwise they’d never get anywhere. “You know what else I _really_ like the sound of right now?” Callum asks, and Ben expects some corny come-on like ‘you on top of me’ or ‘our bed squeaking’, but instead he says “A kebab.”

Ben can’t help but laugh, the sound startled out of him. Callum just smiles at him, pleased, like that’s the exact response he’d been hoping for. 

“Alright,” Ben says, still half laughing, “seeing as though you’re so cute, I’ll buy you a kebab before we go home.”

Callum practically keens at that, coming to a stop again and this time tugging Ben towards him, taking a hold of his head and pressing kisses all over his face. “’M so lucky,” he mumbles in between kisses, “you’re so good to me.”

“Jesus- it’s only a kebab, Callum.” Ben protests, but makes no move to stop Callum or pull away. 

“Love you,” Callum babbles over and over again before he presses a final kiss in the middle of Ben’s forehead and then lets him up for air. “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had,” Ben snorts, taking Callum’s hand again and tugging it slightly, “now will you please _walk_.”

“Don’t want another one.” Callum insists as he finally does start to walk. Ben swears he feels his hand tighten around his. “Why would I want another one? I’ve already got the best bloke in the world right here.” He swings their joined hands for emphasis. 

Ben shakes his head to himself; his face is starting to ache with all the smiling. “Spoiled you for all other men, have I?”

“Spoiled makes it sound bad.” Callum argues as the chip shop comes into view. “And even if it is I don’t care. I don’t- I think it’s an honour to be spoiled by you, Ben Mitchell.”

“I don’t think you’re the one being spoiled tonight, Callum Highway.” Ben tells him quietly, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Callum’s hand before dropping it so he can push the door of the chip shop open. 

“Come on then, Patrick Swayze.” Ben says, holding the door open, but Callum doesn’t move. He just stands in the doorway, grinning like an idiot. “Come on, if we can order this and get home without incident then I might even let you kiss me with your minging kebab breath.”

“You’d let me kiss you anyway.” Callum says with complete certainty, like he can see right though Ben. At this point, Ben wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

As he walks past, Callum stops briefly right in front of Ben to tap at his cheek and then squish his face between his fingers and thumb. The open affection on his face shouldn’t be surprising by now, but somehow it still is. 

“I’m gonna get so many onions on this kebab.” Callum says, then presses a peck to Ben’s lower lip before continuing past and calling out their orders as he approaches the till – he knows Ben’s order by heart, even drunk. 

_I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with you_ , Ben thinks as he watches Callum go, and it startles him so much that for a moment he just stands there continuing to hold the door open until Callum calls him and snaps him out of it. 

Ben digs in his pocket for his wallet, his heart once again slamming in his chest as he watches Callum giving specific instructions to the man making his kebab and thinks _yeah._

_Always._

**Author's Note:**

> once again happy birthday vikki !!! i hope isn't too shitty of a present but tbf it's you who wouldn't let me get you a real one so <3
> 
> and i hope everyone else enjoyed it too!!!
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @sunsetsover !!
> 
> and as always, kudos and comments are always really appreciated!!
> 
> <3


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